


Game of Paladins

by SilenceIsGolden15



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2k18 [20]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Fantastic Racism, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Prompt: Strangled, Protective Kolivan (Voltron), Protective Shiro (Voltron), Strangulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 18:13:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16581551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceIsGolden15/pseuds/SilenceIsGolden15
Summary: Darkness lurks in a palace made of crystal... and the paladins really should invest in some bubble wrap or something for Keith.





	Game of Paladins

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously how many attempted assassinations are we gonna go through before they just stop bringing Keith on diplomacy missions.

“Paladins of Voltron, allow me once again to express my gratitude to you for saving my people from the Galra Empire, and Zarkon’s never ending quest for conquest. I do hope that our celebration was enough to show even the slightest reflection of our appreciation.”

“It was, Your Grace; we thank you most humbly.” Allura gave the alien king a winning smile, not in the least bit tired from the battle or the hours of partying that had taken place afterwards. Coran was at her elbow, posture just as straight and chipper as ever, while the Paladins lingered behind them in a rumpled, exhausted huddle. 

Shiro was at least attempting to remain dignified, but the bags under his eyes were a good indication of how much he’d rather be in bed at the moment. Pidge and Lance were both using a slouching Hunk to hold themselves up, and Keith lingered at the back of the group, itchy and irritated at the ridiculous clothes Allura had stuffed them into for eight hours. 

“Then may you sleep well, and may our accomodations be to your liking.” The king grinned, then raised his long, skeletal arms and clapped his hands. Immediately the crowd of aliens in varying shades of orange and green began to bustle around them, the nobles retreating from their raised seating platforms to head for their chambers and the servants scurrying in to begin cleaning up from the party. 

“Come along, Paladins,” said Allura softly, wading through them to lead them to their assigned guest rooms. “Time for bed.”

“Finally,” Hunk muttered as Pidge gave a long yawn. 

“I never thought I’d say this, but I agree with you. Even I’m partied out,” Lance said, running a hand through his hair, still mussed from his helmet.

“You would’ve thought they’d want to wait to party until their palace was fixed,” Shiro grouched. He had a valid point-- during the battle the Robeast they had been fighting had collapsed right onto the west wing of the king’s palace, crushing the orange crystals that made it up into fine dust. Still the king had insisted on throwing a banquet the same night to celebrate the victory. He’d even invited the Blade to attend to honor their contribution, though only Kolivan had elected to show up. 

The Blade leader was waiting for them in the back of the massive throne room, lingering next to the hallway that would take them to their guest rooms. The poor man was painfully out of place in his borrowed, too-tight formal wear, but his face remained as impassive as ever. 

“Black Paladin,” he said in his growly voice when they got close enough. “I have some things to discuss with you.”

Shiro sighed. For a moment Keith considered stepping in and insisting that it could wait until morning, but before he could Shiro pushed back his bangs and spoke.

“Alright. Come with my to my room and we’ll talk.”

_ Why do you always have to be a martyr, Shiro?  _

All of them had been given their own rooms, complete with ensuite bathrooms, in their own hall of the crystal palace. Smaller green crystals lined the halls to provide light and pulsed slowly in time with some internal rhythm. One by one the Paladins disappeared into their rooms, tapping the button next to the doors (all made of crystal, of course) to open them before going inside. Kolivan went with Shiro into his in the middle of the hall, right next to Allura’s, while Keith headed to his all the way at the end near a group of strange cerulean potted plants. 

No one was left in the hallway to see the crystal by his door flicker to red. 

* * *

The servant girl padded quickly down the hall, hearts racing in her chest. She’d climbed all the way to the top of the palace and her skin shone with the effort, but she had no space in her mind to heed her aching muscles as she knocked delicately on the large ornate doors and slipped into the antechamber beyond. 

King Aras’vi’nez lounged there on his long sofa. The girl averted her eyes from His Grace, as was the rule, and hurried to kneel before him on the crystal floor alongside the other servant girl. She must’ve been from the second or third floor, as she’d never seen the other before. 

“Well?” Asked the King, the crystals that lined his brow raising in expectation. She gulped to make sure her voice wouldn’t tremble.

“The test was positive, Your Grace. The rumors were true. The Red Paladin has Galra blood.”

An evil sneer curled his lip as he sat up. “I knew it. How  _ dare  _ they bring such mongrels into my presence-- it is an insult of the highest order.” 

The two girls kept their heads tipped to the floor and said nothing, as befitted their station. 

The King swept to his feet, moving across the room to a shelf protruding from the wall, upon which sat a box made of dark wood. From this box he produced two braided cords: one lavender and one ruby. The girl’s breath caught in excitement.

The traditional honor cords, woven for strength and integrity. To bless those sent by the monarch with deadly purpose. It was the highest blessing; her hands trembled on her knees. 

“Sala,” he said, returning to stand before them. The other girl straightened, and it wasn’t until then that she noticed how the other girl was several inches taller and broader than she. “Your target will be the Blade of Marmora.” 

The girl received the purple cord with a bowed head and a murmur of, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

King Aras’vi’nez turned to her next and her skin tingled all over. “And you, Nixi, will slay the Red Paladin.”

The cord was soft and silky in her hands. She tugged it lightly on both ends, testing the strength, barely remembering to thank the King for the honor. He waved a hand as he returned to his sofa, a pleased gleam in his eyes. She was smaller than the Paladin, and they were all legendary warriors, but the Ayares were famed for their strength that was even greater than the Alteans-- or so the stories said. 

“Go now, to your task.”

The two girls rose in unison and said, “Thank you, Your Grace,” before scurrying from the room. Nixi clung to her cord as tightly as she dared as she raced all the way back down to the ground floor of the palace, watching her reflection in the crystal floor with shining eyes.

She would not fail. 

* * *

Finally Keith was out of that damn Altean tuxedo. Finally Keith was alone and allowed to get some rest. Finally, finally he was comfortable in his bed, within touching distance of sleep. Then someone knocked on his door, and he couldn’t help but release the irritated groan that built up in his chest.

For a moment he laid there among the blankets and pillows, hoping the person would give up and go away if they didn’t get an answer, but after two minutes of silence the knock came again and he reluctantly swung his feet to the floor. For once he’d indulged in wearing actual pajamas to bed instead of his day clothes, and the crystal was cold against his feet as he staggered to the door.

Standing primly in the hallway was a young Ayares half his height, green skin blending oddly with the light from the crystals outside his door. 

“Uh, can I help you?”

“Merely here to change the linens, Paladin,” she said to the floor. Now, any other time Keith would’ve noticed the fact that she wasn’t carrying any other linen-- the only thing she had in her hand was a length of braided red cord that she clutched like a lifeline. But right now he was dead exhausted and wanted nothing more than to return to his bed and go the fuck to sleep, so he gave a grunt of assent and turned with a sleepy wave, putting his back to her.

Big mistake.

He didn’t make it three steps before the weight descended on him, both his speech and his airflow being cut off in the same instant by the cord constricting around his throat. 

Keith let out a strangled gasp, instinctively reaching for the cord and trying to fit his fingers underneath it, but the little servant girl went completely limp on his back, letting all of her weight dangle from the cord, and he could do nothing but leave red welts on the skin from his fingernails. 

That’s when the adrenaline kicked in and he drove himself backwards into the nearest wall. 

He felt the heavy impact, felt the breath of air the girl released on the back of his ear, but it did nothing to loosen the girl’s grip on him. He did it again, and again, but her grip didn’t shift and by then black spots were dancing across his vision. 

Somehow, even with his lungs burning for air, he managed to stagger out the door that he’d left open and into the hall. From there he didn’t have many options-- he couldn’t scream for anyone to help him, and he could already feel his limbs going light and his eyes going fuzzy-- he wasn’t going to be conscious for much longer. So he did the first thing that popped into his head.

He let himself fall sideways into the potted plants and shattered them. 

* * *

“Are you sure?”

Kolivan growled at him and paced across the room. Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose, seated at the crystal table in the corner in just his dress shirt, having torn off the constricting jacket as quickly as he could. All he wanted to go to sleep, but Kolivan was giving him no quarter.

“Look, I’m not doubting your intel, I just--”

“I am telling you,” said Kolivan, turning on his heel to stare Shiro down, “That if you allow your team to stay here any longer you will be in danger. The Red Paladin, especially. These people consider half-breeds to be lower than  _ dirt.” _

That made Shiro’s stomach twist unhappily. Lord knows plenty of planets they’d visited had that opinion. They’d had plenty of unpleasant encounters over it. But the Ayares hadn’t expressed the same overt disgust the way all those other aliens had-- they’d been nothing but completely civil the whole time, and the last thing he wanted was to cause a diplomatic crisis. 

“Kolivan--”

Shiro wasn’t exactly sure what happened next. One moment he was sitting and the next he was on his feet, and it wasn’t until then that he registered the violent sound of breaking pottery echoing in the hall outside. 

He and Kolivan didn’t even look at each other. They burst from the room at the same moment, both of their heads swiveling to the right end of the hall where the sounds were coming from. His eyes found Keith, on the floor grasping at his throat, and that was all he needed to see to drop into a flat out sprint. 

Kolivan beat him there. With one clawed hand he peeled a tiny, struggling, green Ayares off of Keith’s back, and then Shiro was crashing to his knees amongst the shards of broken pots and scattered dirt and hauling Keith’s limp form into his lap. 

His face was discolored, verging on purple, and his whole body shook in Shiro’s arms with the force of him gasping for breath and the coughs wracking through his chest. Around his throat was wrapped a bloody red cord (presumably what the Ayares had been using to strangle him) which Shiro tore off with a low growl of anger. The skin underneath was rubbed raw and already beginning to bruise. 

“Shi…” Keith wheezed, yanking his attention back to his face. One of Keith’s hands was grasping at Shiro’s shirt, and Shiro reached up to take it into his own. “Sh’ro…”

Another cough rolled through, making him pitch forward until Shiro caught him. 

“Shhh, it’s ok Keith, I’ve got you, just breathe.”

“Blasphemy!” Shrieked the Ayares, squirming in Kolivan’s iron hold. “He must die! It is the King’s will!”

Shiro shot a glare at them over his shoulder while curling protectively over Keith, who fisted both of his hands into the shoulders of Shiro’s shirt to hold himself closer. 

“It’s alright,” he murmured again. Kolivan’s golden gaze found him, giving him a solemn look, and Shiro cringed apologetically. 

He’d been right. 

“What is going on here?” 

Both of them turned to see a furious Allura storming down the hall, followed by a pack of concerned, sleep-ruffled Paladins, Coran bringing up the rear. Shiro gathered Keith in his arms and got to his feet to face her. 

“They,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of the writhing alien, “Tried to kill Keith.”

_ “What?!”  _ The other three paladins exclaimed at the same moment, all of their faces contorting in mixtures of shock and horror. Allura’s nostrils flared. 

“All of you return to the Castle immediately,” she ordered as she spun on her heel. She took off down the hall at a quick pace, her nightgown flying behind her like a cape as the group of them hastened to keep up. “Coran, do a full scan of Keith and treat any injuries he may have.”

“Right away, Princess.”

“Kolivan, if you would accompany me to the King’s chambers with the--” Her voice stuttered, eyes flashing, “Assassin?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

Keith squirmed a bit and let out another cough. “Shiro?” His heart broke at how raspy and wrecked his voice was.

“Yeah bud?” He began walking when Coran gestured for him to follow, the other Paladins dogging his heels and tittering nervously to each other as they made their way out of the crystal palace, all of them but Shiro in pajamas. 

“Where’re we goin’?” 

“Home. Coran wants to scan you and make sure you’re ok.”

Keith responded with a cracking hum as he leaned his head against Shiro’s collarbone. 

“How are you feeling?”

“D-dizzy. M’ throat hurts.”

Shiro’s chest tightened, as did his grip on the younger boy. He’d been throttled before in the arena-- it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Even if there wasn’t any damage to the windpipe he’d probably be bruised for weeks. 

“It’s ok. We’ll take care of you.” 

* * *

Within half an hour Coran’s medical scanner was beeping to indicate it had finished its exam, Keith sagging half-asleep against Shiro’s shoulder while they sat on a cot in the infirmary and waited. The other Paladins had been banished to their own rooms after being reassured that Keith would live, leaving only the three of them to hear their results.

Or two of them, anyway. Keith was still a bit out of it from the lack of oxygen. 

“Doesn’t look like he’ll need any pod time,” said Coran, stroking his mustache thoughtfully. “Most of the damage seems to be external.”

Shiro let out a relieved breath, unconsciously squeezing the grip he had around Keith. 

“We could put him in for a bit to get rid of the bruising, if he wants.”

Shiro doubted he would-- Keith hated being in the pods-- but he nudged him into alertness and asked anyway. 

“No pod,” Keith mumbled, turning his face into Shiro’s neck. “Hate the pods.”

“Whatever you say, bud. Wanna go to bed?”

He nodded eagerly. “‘M so fuckin’ tired.”

Shiro couldn’t help but laugh as he helped Keith stand up. 

Yeah, he was going to be fine. 

 


End file.
